


First Love

by aetherene



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Family, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-15 22:19:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11240421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aetherene/pseuds/aetherene
Summary: They say that you never forget your first love. Arya tried to forget hers by running away, but she couldn't run fast enough.





	First Love

**Author's Note:**

> There is only a minor edit to this repost. I've edited the lyrics to the song that plays later in the story (House - Kindness) because I got them wrong when I originally posted the story on FF.net.
> 
> I don't really wanna go into all my notes on this story, so if you wanna read some of my notes, go ahead and read it from my original on on FF.net.

She was nineteen.

_Write a paper about your quote. Explain the philosophy behind it, if you have any relatable experience, and whether you agree or disagree with the quote._

Her philosophy class had always been a tad unique with their papers. To prevent cheating, they gave every student a different prompt, and the stock varied every year. This one was a bit special. It was her final paper that would decide her university prospects next year. Arya stared at her prompt and wondered if the gods meant for her to have this one.

_“Age does not protect you from love, but love, to some extent, protects you from age.” –Jeanne Moreau_

_Age does not protect you from love_ , Arya repeated in her head. She could understand that, if what she had felt before was love.

She could remember it so well. All she had to do was close her eyes and she would be ten again.

* * *

 

She was ten.

When she first met Gendry Baratheon, it was in her living room. She had just come home from her first day of her final year of primary school. She knew the routine of it: principal’s opening speech, roll is taken, orientation in her classes, lunch, more classes, and then home. Arya opened the door to her family’s house. She dropped her hat and her bag by the door, throwing her blazer on top of it. She kicked off her loafers and began undoing her tie as she headed for the kitchen.

She was just opening the door to the fridge when she heard her half-brother Jon say, “Oh Arya, you’re home! I want you to meet Gendry.”

Confused, Arya closed the door to see her brothers with a guy their age in the living room.

“You know dad’s old friend from when he was in uni?” asked Robb. “Robert Baratheon was his name. Well, Gendry’s his son.”

She had never felt like this before. She felt something flutter inside her, but that feeling combined with a rush of shame made her feel uneasy. Arya could remember the stories her father told her of when he was in university. There were a few photographs of him and Robert in their uni days in his bedroom. Gendry looked exactly like his father: thick black hair and ice blue eyes. _He’s handsome_ , she thought to herself. She had made fun of girls who gushed on about falling head over heels for guys. Her sister and her sister’s best friend were among them. But now Arya was eating her own words, and she was mortified.

Arya forced a smile. “Nice to meet you,” she said politely.

“Nice to meet you too,” said Gendry with a grin.

“How did you meet my brothers?” she asked, trying to stop her voice from trembling.

_You’re being stupid_ , she berated herself. _You don’t get nervous!_

Gendry shrugged. “I just moved here from Nottingham. We’re at the same sixth form at the secondary school.”

“He’s just in the year below us,” said Robb with a laugh. “Just wait until dad finds out that his friend is back in London.”

“He might already know,” said Arya.

Jon turned back to the TV and said, “Look, Arya, your favorite show is on.”

For once in her life, Arya did not want to sit down and watch TV with her brothers, but she took an apple from the fruit basket and sat down on the couch. She hardly paid any attention to her show; she was so busy stealing glances at Gendry.

She could tell he was strong just by looking at him. The secondary school and sixth form that her older sister and her older brothers went to required Years 7-11 to wear a uniform. But her brothers and Gendry were in the sixth form portion of the school, so they were allowed to wear whatever they wanted. Gendry’s shirt was a bit small on him; Arya could see the way his muscles rippled beneath it each time he moved or laughed.

Was this what Sansa’s best friend, Jeyne Poole, did when she stared at Robb? Arya had noticed her stares; she noticed all the girls staring at her older brothers. She had heard the whispers of the girls in her year when her brothers sometimes walked her to school. This funny tingling feeling…was that what those girls felt when they stared at Robb and Jon?

Arya turned to glue her eyes at the TV screen though she was not really watching the program. If she could notice the stares of Jeyne Poole and other girls, others would notice her staring at Gendry. And it was hard not to stare at him. He was so handsome, and he always seemed to mesmerize her. So Arya stole her glances from the corner of her eyes. She had to. Jon and Robb would tease her to no end if they found out.

She had to pretend that Gendry was just her brothers’ friend. And dammit, it was difficult to pretend. After all, he was at her house almost every single day.

* * *

She was sixteen.

Sansa had been on her ass for the past month about getting a Facebook.

“It would be nice to hear from you more instead of having to hear what’s been going on from Mom or Jon!” she had texted with a few angry smileys. She later texted the account information and password to the Facebook account that she had so _graciously_ set up for her.

Arya had been studying at the House of Black and White Braavos Academy for the past five years. The academy was in Venice, Italy; far, far away from her family in London. It was her own decision to study at Braavos, and she did not regret it. The schooling was quite rigorous, however. She had studied Italian in the summer before she left for the academy, but it was almost not enough for her to get through her first year of _scuola secondaria di primo grado_ since the classes were taught completely in Italian. Her family was quite wealthy so paying the immense amount of tuition wasn’t that great of a problem, but since she had wanted to go to Braavos so badly, Arya studied hard so she wouldn’t waste her parents’ money. She spent almost every waking moment studying and perfecting her Italian. She in better shape during her second year, and when she had gotten the hang of her new life, Arya joined Braavos’ fencing team.

Arya had no time for such foolishness such as Facebook.

Still, she was a bit curious. Arya logged in to see what Sansa had done. She had friends already on her account, though it was just her family and a few family friends. She was slightly amazed at how much her family put their lives into this site. Even her baby brother Rickon had a page, and he was only ten.

She glanced through her brothers’ and sister’s profiles. She had missed a lot during her years at Braavos. Robb and Jon had girlfriends, and there were plenty of pictures of them together and at uni. Robb was at Oxford, and Jon was at St Andrews. Sansa had quite a lot of pictures herself at sixth form with her friends. Bran’s pictures were mostly landscapes or shots of London from high places. No doubt he sneaked up to the roof of high buildings to take them. Rickon didn’t have a lot of pictures; his were mostly of him and his friends during class at the secondary school.

While browsing Jon’s profile, a post had caught her eye.

 

**Gendry Baratheon** added a new photo. —with **Robb Stark** and **Jon Snow**.

**Jeyne Westerling, Ygritte Wildes, Sansa Stark** and **33 others** like this.

**View all 60 comments**

**Robb Stark** Wtf, this is old.

**Jon Snow** I thought we deleted all of these.

**Gendry Baratheon** Found one last picture on my old phone. Aren’t you happy I did?

**Jon Snow** Fuck you.

**Gendry Baratheon** Good job, Jon. Now your girlfriend knows about our secret relationship. D:

**Jon Snow** Maybe she wouldn’t have taken it that way, but now it’s really out in the open now. Good job, Gendry. D:

**Ygritte Wildes** You know nothing, **Jon Snow**. Your secret relationship with Gendry is about as secret as his uncle’s with **Margaery Tyrell** ’s brother.

**Robb Stark** Damn. That’s cold to call out their relationship on here.

**Jon Snow** You know I still want you, Ygritte. ;)

**Ygritte Wildes** You have me or have you forgotten that?

**Jon Snow** I can have you right now. You’re in our bedroom. I should head on over there right now.

**Bran Stark** I didn’t really need to read that.

**Jeyne Westerling** Oh that’s cute. Look at my man flexing! How long ago was this taken?

**Sansa Stark** Five years ago. xD We had a pool party to celebrate the end of exams when these guys decided to see who was the buffest.

**Gendry Baratheon** The winner is clearly me.

**Edric Baratheon** You look ridiculous.

**Gendry Baratheon** I still got more muscles that you, baby brother. I can still beat you in a fight.

**Edric Baratheon** More brawn than brains then.

**Mya Baratheon** Edric, that was rude.

**Jon Snow** Speaking of brains, don’t you have a paper to be writing, Mr. Gendry Baratheon?

**Gendry Baratheon** Speaking of your cock, don’t you want to have your girl right now, Mr. Jon Snow?

**Ygritte Wildes** He JUST came back to the bedroom. Lmao.

 

Arya laughed as she looked at Gendry’s photo. It was taken at the same pool party when she had gotten her acceptance letter for Braavos. She stared at Gendry’s face in the photo and smiled. It was the same as she had remembered. She moved her mouse and clicked on Gendry’s name, pulling up his profile. She went through his pictures. He was much more handsome now.

She couldn’t quite place what she liked about him. Maybe it was the contrast between his dark hair and light eyes. Or the fact that he had a sense of humor, or maybe that he was kind to her. Arya looked through all his pictures. A lot were of him with his brother and sisters and his father. There were several with him at University of Nottingham.

As Arya looked through them, there were a few things certain. One, they were miles and miles away from each other. Two, she was too young for him. She was still just a teenager and he was an adult. There was no chance in seven hells that Arya could have a shot at him. It had been the same when she first met him, and it was the same now.

She shook her head and moved her mouse to the account settings. She found the deactivation button and clicked it. If she kept this account, she would surely be distracted from her studies. It was her only link to Gendry now, but school was more important. Sansa would probably throw a fit about the deactivation of the account, but Arya couldn’t have the distraction.

_It’s not worth the trouble._

* * *

She was eleven.

It was unusually hot, but that was fine with Arya and her brothers and sister because their schools had their last bit of exams and were let out. Robb and Jon got their last A level scores back with flying marks, which meant that they would have entry into the university of their choice. To celebrate the hot weather and the start of summer vacation, they were having a bit of a pool party. It wasn’t quite much of a party when Gendry was the only guest there.

Arya was embarrassed to leave her room in her swimsuit. It was just a basic one-piece, and not one of the cute two pieces that her sister had.

_You really are stupid_ , she thought to herself. _You’re acting a bit like Sansa now._

She almost wasn’t going to swim when Robb and Jon grabbed her and threw her into the pool. She surfaced, angry and pissed off. She quickly got out and chased after them, yelling and punching as Gendry and Bran and Rickon laughed. But Arya stopped to laugh when her older brothers got hold of Sansa and threw her in.

Arya couldn’t tell how long they played in the pool. It was fun trying to play Marco Polo, and then she and Bran played Chicken on top of Robb and Jon’s shoulders. When Gendry and her brothers started trying to do backflips into the water, Arya settled for teaching Rickon how to swim. When Bran took over for her, she went to the kitchen to get some ice cold lemonade. As she was pouring herself a glass, her father walked in, back from work.

“Hi Daddy,” she greeted.

“Hello, love,” he said. “A letter came for you in the post.”

She took it from her father and scanned the return address. She eagerly ripped the envelope open and read it with shaking hands. She looked up at her father, beaming. “I got in!” she shrieked. “I got in! I got in! I got in!”

Ned Stark laughed as Arya continued to scream and dance and jump throughout the kitchen. Her brothers and sister and Gendry appeared at the sliding door, curious.

“What’s going on?” asked Jon.

Arya handed the letter to him to read as she continued to dance around the room.

“‘Dear Miss Arya Stark,’” read Jon. “‘We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into House of Black and White Braavos Academy in Venice, Italy for our secondary education program. Your academics and exam scores are superbly excellent, and we would be honored to have you as a student at our institution.’”

“Italy?” echoed Robb.

“I got in! I got in!” sang Arya. She didn’t care that Gendry was watching her dorky dancing. She was so ecstatic that she was going to study abroad in Italy.

“Ew, why would you want to go to Italy for secondary school?” asked Sansa, scrunching up her nose in disdain. “They have an extra year of schooling before they go to uni!”

“I don’t care,” said Arya with a grin. “I get to go to Italy to study. That’s all that matters.”

“Would you allow this, Father?” asked Jon.

Ned nodded. “I do. Arya was the one who came to me with the proposition for applying to Braavos. I gave her permission to go if she could make the grades and the test scores.”

“And I aced them all,” she said proudly. “I’m going to Italy!”

* * *

She was nineteen.

The bell rang and the teacher said, “That’s all for today. Do not forget to read the last few chapters in your book, and be prepared to possibly take a quiz next class.” Arya closed her books and shoved them back into her bag. She got up to leave when her teacher said, “Arya Stark, please see me.”

Her teacher was a kind old man. Arya loved his classes.

“Yes, sir?”

“I just wanted to say that I quite enjoyed your last paper.”

Arya flushed, remembering its content. “Thank you, sir.”

“Yes, it was written well, and I could feel your experience as if it were my own.” The kind old man smiled, stacking papers neatly on the desk. “At least, that is what I told all of the universities across Italy.”

Arya stared at her teacher for a moment, blinking slowly. “I’m sorry?”

“I’ve talked to the school board and they have agreed that it can warrant you into any uni of your choice in Italy. With your past exam scores, you will have no problem with acing your _Esame di Maturità._ ”

She chuckled softly. She felt honored that her paper was so good that it was practically a free pass to any university. It was a pass to the next stage of her education. “Thank you, sir,” she said. “I am honored that any uni in Italy would love to have me as a student in their philosophy program. But to be honest, I was planning on choosing a university in the UK to attend after graduation. Italy has been my home for the past eight years and I love it here, but I would love to go back to England.”

“I see. Well, I’m certain that can be arranged, too.”

* * *

She was twenty-one.

“How are you?” asked her mother.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you settled into your dorm?”

“Yes, quite nicely. Trinity Hall always has nice accommodations.”

There was silence on the other line. “I still wish you would come home more often.”

Arya resisted the urge to sigh. They had this conversation almost every single time her mother called. When she was nineteen and she told her parents how her final philosophy paper would grant her a place in any university, they were ecstatic. They thought that their youngest daughter would finally be coming home after getting her diploma at Braavos, and she would take a place at University of London so she would be very close to home. But just like when Arya had applied to Braavos all by herself, she now had bigger ambitions. She wanted a place at University of Cambridge; according to rankings, it was the finest university in the United Kingdom.

She was still arguably close to London though. A train ride from Cambridge to London was just a little over an hour, and Catelyn hounded her about visiting on weekends. Arya always gave the excuse that she had coursework and exams that could not be ignored. After all, as a major in philosophy, she was required to think rather than to memorize.

It was just like in Braavos. Arya holed herself up in her room and studied and studied. She only went out when she had fencing training, wanted food from the commons, and needed to study in the library. There were the occasional times when Arya would go out with her friends to clubs and drink as much as she could. Drinking was the only time she felt liberated from her busy school life.

“You know I can’t, Mum,” Arya said softly. “I’m very busy.”

“You should make time for us. Surely you can put aside your coursework for one day to come back down to London.”

“I can’t. I’m drowning in papers and pages to read. Going home for a day would set me back already.”

“Arya, you’ve done nothing but study for years. It’s all I hear you talk about when I call you. Don’t you do anything else?”

Same old, same old. “I fence,” she said.

“And?”

“Drink with friends.”

Catelyn let out a weary laugh. “Please visit, Arya, and not just at Christmas time. Your father and I miss you. Robb and Rickon miss you too.”

Arya was tempted to ask about the rest of her siblings. Without a doubt they missed her too, but most of them weren’t in London, at least to her knowledge. After graduating from Oxford, Robb went back to London to start taking over the reigns over their father’s company. Jon and Ygritte moved to Edinburgh where Jon was now a detective. Sansa was still at University of Newcastle where she was earning her Masters degree in Hotel Management. Bran in his first year of uni at Cardiff trying to earn a medical degree. Bran was the only one left in London since he was only in Year 11.

“I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t make any guarantees,” said Arya. “I have to go, Mum. I have my laundry to do.

“All right, my love. Take care.”

She hung up.

It was all a lie. Arya missed her family terribly, but Cambridge was much, much more important. She couldn’t let her scholarship and her parents’ money go to waste. Her ambition was her highest priority right now. And for a slight second, Arya remembered why her ambition always outweighed going home.

* * *

She was twenty-three.

Arya was finally home in London, back to living with her parents. She had graduated from Cambridge, but she stayed for another year to earn her Masters. She had graduated as one of the top in her class; Arya figured that since she had studied philosophy for five years in _secondo grado_ , she might as well be the best in her undergraduate and M.Phil. classes. It earned her a well-deserved degree in philosophy.

Arya walked downstairs and into the kitchen and living room. The radio was playing, belching out a song, and she found only Robb sitting at their father’s bar. A bottle of brandy was open, his glass half full, and a cigarette in full aflame.

Arya raised an eyebrow as she pulled the cigarette out of Robb’s mouth. “Since when did you smoke?” she asked.

“Since between the time you left for your academy and now,” he answered smoothly, plucking the cigarette from Arya’s fingers and taking a drag. Robb glanced at his youngest sister and asked, “And since when did you start dressing more femininely?”

Arya rolled her eyes and moved around the bar to the other side. She grabbed the bottle of brandy and poured herself a drink. “I’m not dressed femininely.”

“Yes you are.” He gestured to her outfit of a tight black sweater, short plaid gray shorts, long black socks that ran up to her thighs and black, knee high boots. They were no dress or skirt, but with the way her clothes and her boots were hugging her matured curves, there was nothing boyish about it. “It may not be Sansa’s style, but it is more of what Ygritte might wear.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Fuck off,” she snapped. Since when her brothers give a damn about what clothes she wore? When she was a kid, her mother and Sansa had tried to get her to wear dresses and skirts, but she only wanted to wear shorts and pants so she could chase after her brothers. When she went to Braavos, she was only forced to wear the school’s uniform skirt, but after lessons, no one cared what she wore.

Robb laughed. “Oh look, my baby sister has a bit of a mouth too.”

“Well, how else am I supposed to eat and talk and drink?” A bit annoyed, Arya drained her glass of brandy before pouring herself another. She could feel the familiar burn of the alcohol in her throat, but it was a good burn; one she liked.

“All the wine in Italy isn’t enough for you?”

“It doesn’t get me drunk fast enough.”

Robb laughed again. “You’re with your brothers on that one.”

“What are you doing here, anyway?” she asked.

Robb didn’t live at home with their parents anymore. Neither did Jon and Sansa. Jon was still in Edinburgh, and Sansa had her own flat in London now that she was a working lady. It was always like that with birds leaving the nest. Bran had technically left already; he was in university at Cardiff. Apart from Arya, Rickon was the only still living at home. He was in his final year of sixth form though, and soon he would be off to York if he got the grades. Arya owed it to herself to live with her parents just a little while longer considering that she was the first one to leave the nest and hardly return.

“Just wanted some time to think.”

“About the wedding?”

Robb had asked his longtime girlfriend Jeyne Westerling to marry him a couple of years ago. They had planned to marry, but Jeyne’s obligations to her career as a nurse and Robb taking over his father’s company put off the wedding until now. It was itching closer and closer to the wedding day, which was just a couple of weeks after Arya’s twenty-fourth birthday in December.

“Yeah. Speaking of which,” Robb withdrew a credit card from his pocket and held it out for Arya, “Sansa says that you need to buy a dress for the rehearsal dinner.”

“I don’t need one,” answered Arya, scowling.

“Yes, you do,” cut in Sansa who swept in from the foyer holding grocery bags. Since their parents were always busy with work, Sansa sometimes took the time out to do grocery shopping and run their errands. She dumped the bags onto the island bar before going back to the foyer to retrieve more bags. “I went through your closet and did not find a suitable dress for the dinner.”

Arya’s frown deepened. “You went through my stuff?!” she yelled.

“How else was I supposed to know if you have a dress? I’ve hardly seen you these past years, and I don’t know what your wardrobe consists of.”

“Knowing her is enough to know what her closet is like without having to take a guess,” said Robb with a laugh.

“I was wearing a dress when I graduated,” said Arya. “Can’t I just wear that?”

“Everyone’s seen that dress already. You can’t wear it twice to another formal event,” said Sansa. She came back from the foyer with the last set of groceries and began filling up the fridge.

“Well, I don’t want to go shopping,” said Arya. “Besides, the dinner is in a few weeks. Why buy it now?”

“You _need_ a dress,” insisted Sansa. “Don’t wait until the last minute when all the good ones are taken.”

Arya rolled her eyes and snatched the credit card from Robb and shoved it into the pocket of her shorts. “I’ll be sure to get a good dress,” she answered in a deadpan voice.

“You better. _Everyone_ is going to the dinner, and they’ll especially want to see you since they hardly have for the past twelve years,” said Sansa.

“Like?”

“Tyrells are going. And the Mormonts and the Greyjoys. Our relatives.”

“The Baratheons, too,” added Robb. “Do you remember my friend Gendry from when Jon and I were in sixth form? He’s going.”

Arya’s stomach tightened into knots. She couldn’t ever forget Gendry. She hadn’t been able to. The truth was that she was a coward. It was only a school girl crush, and nothing was going to happen. Instead of coming to terms with it, she ran away to Braavos and then Cambridge and completely immersed herself in her studies and fencing. She didn’t think about Gendry at all, except for that one time she wrote her philosophy paper based on her crush on him and when Sansa got her a Facebook. But now she didn’t have school to worry about and every thought about him came back. It was as if she was that silly ten year-old again. She thought of his dark hair and his blue eyes and how deep his laugh was, and she wanted to hit herself.

“I remember him,” she said. “He was always here after school with you and Jon.”

_It’s enough to say you’re getting older every day, you ought to love someone_ , sang the radio.

“Yeah. We’ve always kept in touch since we graduated from sixth form.”

“How is he?” asked Sansa, stuffing the fridge with juice. “I haven’t seen him since last year when we went to his father’s birthday party.”

“Oh, he’s fine,” Robb said with a wave of his hand. “He’s finally gotten over his break up with Jeyne Heddle, that’s for sure.”

Sansa turned to face her brother with wide eyes. “They broke up?! Really?! I didn’t know. I was so sure they would get married, too.”

Arya cursed herself for feeling relieved even though she didn’t know who Jeyne Heddle was. She poured more brandy into her glass and drowned it all in one gulp.

_You break down and you pray, hoping something comes your way; you ought to love someone_ , sang the radio.

“Everyone thought that, too. But Gendry said that Jeyne wasn’t feeling the love anymore, so they broke up.”

“That’s too bad. I rather liked her.” Sansa looked up at the ceiling for a moment before stomping her foot. “Oh shoot. I forgot I left Father’s dry cleaning in the car. Robb, help me get it. There’s a lot.”

Robb put out his cigarette and followed Sansa out. “Why does Dad have a lot of dry cleaning?”

“Because he just decided to get most of his suits cleaned all in one go,” she answered, rolling her eyes.

_You love someone,_ the radio sang.

Arya reached over and turned the radio off as she heard the front door open and her brother and sister’s feet walk on the pavement outside.

“You’re such an idiot,” she said out loud to the room. “Just because he’s single now, doesn’t mean that you have a chance. Give it up, girl. Just give it up.”

* * *

She was ten.

She had finally grasped the idea that this crush on Gendry was such a bad, bad idea. It was more than just the risk of her brothers teasing her if they found out.

It had all started when Arya came home from school and heard her brothers and Gendry talking about their options for university. In the few months she harbored this crush, she had completely forgotten that her older brothers and Gendry were in sixth form. They were at the age and year when they would have to start looking at universities and getting the right grades to get admission to their first choices.

That was when it also dawned on her that this was just a silly school girl crush. What chance did she have with him? She was too young; only a girl just shy of eleven when he was already sixteen.

Arya didn’t bother going into the kitchen, almost afraid to face Gendry with these new realizations.

_Maybe this would be easier if I wasn’t here_ , she thought. How could she face another year with him here when he would be gone the next?

Arya pulled a folder out of her bag and began to look through it for the brochure that she was sure she still had. It wasn’t too late for her to apply. The competition to get in was tough, but she was sure she could make it if she worked really hard.

* * *

She was twenty-four. 

Arya rubbed her legs together, trying to get some warmth back into them. The doors of the ballroom were wide open and the cold December air was rushing inside. Her dress was a grey and long sleeved with rhinestones evenly sewn onto the fabric. It was just a tad short though; the hem ended an inch or two from mid-thigh. It was the first dress that Arya found on the shelf and liked. Sansa approved of it too, and so it was paid for with Robb’s credit card. Now Arya was slightly regretting getting the dress because her legs were _freezing_.

She had spent the night being dragged around by her sister to the various guests. Her family’s friends had not seen her for years. Arya realized that the only time she had only come home from school was for Christmas vacation. Even after celebrations were over, she stayed at home, occasionally going to family parties if they were held. She felt like she was truly out of touch with the world.

She felt like a broken record. She talked about her time in Italy and then Cambridge to her brother’s guests before she excused herself as Sansa dragged her to someone else. Her voice was getting hoarse from all the talking so Arya quickly made up the excuse to go to the bathroom so she could slip away and snatch a glass of champagne from a passing tray. She was just starting to settle on the side of the room, sipping her champagne when Gendry approached her.

“Arya?” he called.

Arya looked up and smiled. Her lower abdomen gave a familiar nervous flutter, and she swore in her head. He was much more handsome than when she saw pictures of him on Facebook when she was sixteen. He was older, more mature, more buff. His hair was still thick and black, but she could see the slight scruffiness of a beard growing on his face. She found it rather attractive.

“Hello, Gendry,” she greeted. She watched as his eyes slowly looked her over.

_Is he checking me out?_ She thought.  _No. That’s not possible. I’m just Robb and Jon’s little sister to him._

“I haven’t seen you since you were eleven.”

Arya shrugged, trying to be casual. “Italy and Cambridge took up my time.”

He laughed, his voice deep and husky. “I bet, since you hardly came home. I’ve seen Sansa’s posts on trying to convince Jon to convince you to come home for the summers.”

Arya flushed and hid her face in mortification. “Oh my god. Sansa! What the hell? That’s so embarrassing!” she muttered to herself. It would have been fine if it was through text messages or calls, but on Facebook when it was so _public_.

Gendry grinned. “I guess Italy was that great that you stayed there even for the summers.”

“It was amazing,” she corrected. During her time at Braavos, Arya never went home for the summer. She stayed in Venice. Sometimes she took summer school, but most of the time she was training for fencing tournaments. For two summers in a row, Arya even toured Italy to see as much as she could. It truly was lovely.

“What sort of things did you learn in Braavos?” he asked.

“It was only basic education during my three years of _primo grado_ , but when I got into _secondario grado_ , I took the _Liceo Classico_ course, which teaches Latin, Ancient Greek, history and philosophy,” she explained.

“That must be why you graduated as a philosophy major.”

Arya beamed, and a part of her felt like such a nerd for letting her love for her major show. “I do love it. It’s interesting.”

Gendry nodded, smiling. He stared at her again before saying, “Italy’s done wonders for you, you know.”

She was speechless for a moment before she smiled. “Thank you.”

Sansa came bounding up then, and grasped Arya’s hand. “Hi Gendry,” she greeted.

“Hey Sansa.”

Sansa turned back to her sister and said, “Arya, come here. Uncle Edmure and Aunt Lysa just arrived. Come say hello.” She began tugging Arya in the direction of their aunt and uncle.

“Excuse me,” Arya said to Gendry with an apologetic smile.

“Arya, I was actually wondering—” Gendry said quickly. Sansa flashed him a quick look before dropping Arya’s hand and walking away. When she was out of earshot, Gendry said, “I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee with me sometime.”

Arya smiled softly, her heart doing a weird twist inside her. “Sure,” she answered with a chuckle. “I’d love that.”

For the first time in fourteen years, Arya felt like maybe, just maybe, she had a chance at this after all.

**Author's Note:**

> There is a sequel called [Only Love](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11240772)! Be sure to read that one too!


End file.
